Strength from Loyalty (Lost Kings MC #3)

  “What?” she snaps back at me.

  “You’re asleep when I leave. You’re asleep when I get back—” Why am I doing this to her? Why can’t I keep my fucking mouth shut?

  Fury turns her cheeks red. She tosses back the covers and scrambles out of bed to face me. Arms crossed over her chest, eyes flashing fire. “How the fuck would you know what I did today? You’ve been gone sunrise to fucking midnight, Rock.”

  Good. Fight me. Do something. This is the most animated I’ve seen her in days.

  “I’ve got shit to handle.”

  “I know. And I’ve been trying not to bother you, but don’t you dare come in here and speak to me—”

  I started it, but I’m too much of a pussy to finish it, so I storm into the bathroom, slamming the door behind me. Part of me wants her to barge in and yell at me some more. I fuckin’ deserve it.

  When I get out of the shower, the lights in the bedroom are all off. I make out Hope’s form curled over on her side, facing away from me. Crawling into bed with her is awkward. I know she’s not asleep.

  Her breath hitches.

  I made her fuckin’ cry.

  Pulling her to me sets everything she’d been trying to hold in loose. In my arms, she shakes and sobs. I bury my nose in her hair, kissing her. “Baby, I’m sorry I’m bein’ such a dick. I didn’t mean to take it out on you. Please don’t cry.”

  Every tear she’s ever shed has cut me. I can’t stand hearing my girl upset over anything. But the tears she’s crying because of me? Because of pain I’ve caused her by being an asshole? Those stick in my throat like shards of glass.

  “Hope.” I manage a hoarse whisper. She turns, her soft body sliding against me, and wraps her arms around me tight.

  I don’t deserve her forgiveness, but I’m grateful for it. Her cheek is still damp against my chest, searing my skin.

  “What’s happening?” she finally asks, sounding very small and broken.

  The words “I don’t know” roll around in my mouth, but I hold them in because they’re a lie.

  After a while, she shifts a little but keeps her arms around me.

  “You feeling any better, baby doll?”

  She nods, the soft skin of her cheek brushing against my chest. “Yeah. I went downstairs to hang out with Trinity for a while. I tried to stay up and wait for you, but I was tired.”

  Fuck, I’m an asshole. “I’m sorry.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  Do I? It’s club business. I’ve already told Hope more about the club than I think any guy I’ve known in this life has told his ol’ lady. Christ, in another MC, I’d probably get shot for all the shit I’ve shared with her.

  When it takes me so long to answer, Hope sighs and attempts to turn over.

  “Stop, baby doll. I’m just thinking how to explain—”

  “I know I’m not clever at the criminal stuff like you guys are, but I’m not stupid. Maybe I can help.”

  I know she didn’t mean it as a dig, but hearing my girl so casually refer to me as a criminal—even though I know damn well that’s what I am—fuckin’ stings.

  But I’ve already made her cry once tonight. Picking another fight over something so stupid isn’t what I want to do, so I simmer the fuck down and take a breath.

  “Remember Sparky’s sick plants?”

  She sort of gasps and struggles to sit up. “Oh my gosh. I’m such an idiot.”

  I grab her hand and tug her back down. “What are you talking about?”

  “Logically, I understood you’re not growing all that for personal consumption.”

  I snort. “No, babe.”

  “But I didn’t think beyond what the sick plants meant.”

  Of course she understands what’s going on right away. “Yes. Our buyer increased the amount he wants, and if that crop isn’t ready, it’ll cause problems.”

  “Oh.” She’s quiet for a moment, thinking through the implication of my words. “It’s not just a matter of lost money, is it?

  “No.”

  “Is this person dangerous?”

  “Yes and no. He’s a gangster with ambition.”

  She snorts. “Sounds dangerous to me.”

  “Yeah. The guys and I had a short meeting when I got back. Sparky says the plants are getting better. He wants to stretch their flowering stage to give us more yield, but we don’t have the time.”

  “Wow, I was wrong. I don’t have any useful advice.”

  I huff out a laugh and kiss the top of her head. “I appreciate you tryin’.”

  “Is this… person your only customer?”

  “No. That’s the other problem. I’ve had to pull a delivery I promised to a new customer. I’m trying to broaden our customer base, and the gangster wants to keep us dependent on his crew.”

  “So you’re basically trying to diversify your portfolio?”

  Okay, how can I not laugh at that? She’s so fuckin’ cute.

  She thumps my chest to get my attention. “You can’t expand too much, though. You only have so much room down there.”

  “True.”

  “Even if Sparky says the plants are recovering… will they still be as, I don’t know, good?”

  My smile is wasted in the dark. But yeah, my girl catches on quick. “There’s some concern about that. We have a certain reputation.”

  “Oh, I imagine Sparky only wants to produce the best. That’s why the gangster wants you all to himself.”

  It’s not a question. She definitely has a grasp of the situation now.

  “Why not set up some sort of blind test and have some of your regular hang-arounds or whatever give you an opinion?”

  I open my mouth, then reconsider. It’s actually not a bad idea. Sparky likes getting opinions on his new strains. This wouldn’t be much different.

  “It wouldn’t be scientific,” Hope says in a rush, like she’s worried I’m going to dismiss her idea.

  “No. It’s a good idea. We don’t have a ton to spare for something like that.” I can think of at least two guys who would be perfect for the task. “I’ll bring it up in church.”

  We’re quiet for a while. Her hand keeps restlessly brushing against my chest, so she hasn’t fallen asleep.

  “Hope?”

  “Yes,” she whispers so soft I feel the word more than hear it.

  “I’m sorry about before.”

  “I know you are.”

  “Forgive me?”

  She doesn’t hesitate. “Always.”

  Shit, that one fucking word tears me up inside.

  It takes me a second to notice, but her hand keeps drifting lower.

  “Hope,” I warn, halting her exploration. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.”

  “Oh, I plan to finish.”

  The nightmares I started having after the run-in with my sister-in-law ease up after Rock confides in me. But for some reason, I’m still paralyzed. Rock’s even noticed I’m not into planning our wedding, and now that I know the extent of what he’s dealing with, I feel even worse.

  There’s no way I can explain to him why I’m having so much anxiety about the wedding. Not when he’s involved in such a delicate dilemma with some… gangster. Compared to the pressure he’s under, my angst seems insignificant and stupid. I can’t waste his energy or distract him with my nonsense. I just need a little time to work things through on my own. Hopefully, by then, the club’s situation will have improved, and I’ll tell him everything.

  Lately, all the guys seem to be on edge. The lazy, easygoing atmosphere that usually permeates the clubhouse is thick with tension.

  When I get a call from Empire Canvassing asking me to come in for an interview, I jump at the chance to get away from the clubhouse. Lilly’s friend explained how the lobbying firm he works for represents a lot of the groups pushing for New York to legalize marijuana. That he decided to call me now strikes me as perversely funny.

  Given Rock’s…business, I feel compelled to exp
lore this job opportunity. Of course, I don’t think my interviewers will take “my husband-to-be is a marijuana trafficker” as an appropriate response to the standard “why do you want to work here” question, but I have a few days to figure it out.

  Rock doesn’t exactly share my enthusiasm about this new career path. Something he makes abundantly clear during dinner one night.

  “Remember that lobbyist I told you Lilly and I had lunch with?”

  Rock stares at me, so I explain in a rush. “The one who said his firm represents those tech companies trying to get marijuana legalized in New York?”

  Understanding flares in Rock’s eyes and he nods. Wrath pins me with one of his icy glares. Flustered, it dawns on me a little too late that I should have had this conversation with Rock when we were alone. “Well, his company wants to interview me for a position. They need an attorney…”

  No one speaks.

  It’s awkward. I realize I might be treading into territory the club won’t approve of, and I’m not sure how I feel about that.

  Stupid.

  Yes, I understand they voted me in and they seem to accept me. That doesn’t mean bringing women into the inner business dealings is something the MC embraces.

  “That’s great, baby doll. You’d be good at it. Sounds like it would be full time, though. Are you sure that’s what you want to do?” Rock finally says.

  Is this his way of telling me he doesn’t want me to take the job?

  I have to give Wrath credit—he manages to wait until the girls leave the table before tearing into me. Trinity seemed to sense we were about to have a blowout, so I think that's why she had a sudden need to take Hope outside to look at some stuff for the garden.

  “Prez, you need to shut that shit down.”

  Ignoring him, I finish my dinner and sit back, crossing my arms over my chest.

  “Why? I think it’s funny as fuck.”

  Z’s keepin’ an eye on both of us. I don’t think he’s decided which side to land on.

  “Listen, it’s one thing to let her know what we’re into so she can make an informed decision about spending so much time here. And I do trust her.”

  I let out a deep breath.

  “But we barely have the county sheriff and Empire PD out of our business. You really think having your wife running around out there advocating for reform is a good way to stay under the radar?”

  As much as I hate to admit it, he has a point.

  Z finally weighs in. “You’re going worst-case scenario, bro. It’s so close to being legalized. No one’s gonna come knocking on our door because of where she works.” Z glances at me, and I nod to encourage him since he seems to be on my side. “Cops have seen us doing a lot of good down in Empire for years. The MC keeps the really bad shit out, which makes their jobs easier, and they look the other way. Lotta charities quietly supported by us, too.” He sits back but keeps his eyes on Wrath. “Besides, Hope’s as wholesome and respectable as it gets. Having someone like her advocating for reform can only be a good thing.”

  He turns toward me, and this time I know whatever he’s about to say I won’t like. “Besides, you hooked up with a lawyer only looks good for us.” He shrugs and glances at Wrath. “She wouldn’t be with him if he was some big-time drug dealer, right?”

  “Thanks, asshole.”

  His face remains neutral. “Calm down. I’m not saying I think that. I’m saying that’s what it might suggest to outsiders.”

  Wrath jerks his chin at me. “Why you encouraging this anyway? You know damn well you don’t want her away from you for forty-some hours a week.”

  At first I was amused, but this entire situation quickly got out of hand. Deep down in a place I’d rather not acknowledge, I’m annoyed with Hope for sticking me in this position.

  Between our compromised crop, GSC taking up residence in my lower colon, and Hope’s melancholy, I’m close to my breaking point.

  As if all that shit isn’t giving me enough of an ulcer, I get a call from the president of the Wolf Knights MC. Their territory borders ours, and we enjoy a friendly, respectful relationship. We’ve definitely teamed up to handle our other rival—the Vipers—a lot in the last few years.

  Other than that, we don’t generally do social calls. Except Wrath, who has a working relationship with the sergeant-at-arms of their club, through his gym. Maybe once or twice a year, I’ll close down Crystal Ball and host a party where the two clubs mix, just to keep things friendly.

  Ulfric isn’t looking for a party invitation tonight.

  The daughter of one of his members disappeared. Right off the street in downtown Slater—his territory.

  “She’s twenty, and you fuckin’ know how they are. Nose always buried in their cell phones, not payin’ fuckin’ attention.” Ulfric’s worked up, and I can’t blame him.

  “You sure it’s Viper? That’s pretty fuckin’ bold pullin’ that shit right in your territory.”

  “No, I don’t fuckin’ know for sure,” he snaps. “Someone saw her get pulled into one of those pedo vans with the blacked-out windows. Who the fuck else would it be?”

  A lotta people, but I keep that thought to myself for now. “Gimmie her description. I know a guy with an in. I’ll see what I can find out.”

  “That gonna cost you?”

  It’ll fuckin’ cost me all right, ‘cause my “in” is fuckin’ Loco, who’s already such a pain in my goddamn ass the thought of askin’ the gangsterfuck for a favor is making me see red. “Yeah. Give me a day at least.”

  “Fuck, Rock. I appreciate it. Cops won’t do a motherfuckin’ thing. Told us she probably ran off with a boyfriend and we should handle it ‘in house.’”

  That’s a bad sign that Ulfric doesn’t have any friends in the Slater PD willing to appease him in this matter. Especially since they’re known to be one of the shadiest police departments in the area, and I know Ulfric drops a lot of cash to them on a regular basis. “That’s a problem, my friend.”

  “Yeah, no shit. Let me know what you find out.”

  As soon as I’m off the phone with him, I put in my call to Loco. He’s naturally a dick, as I suspected.

  “Rock, this is a pretty big favor. You ready to do that thing we talked about?”

  “I’m working on it,” I grit out through clenched teeth. While I mentioned the introduction Loco wants me to make, we didn’t take an official vote on it yet. Thank fuck all I need is a majority, ‘cause I know for sure Wrath’s vote will be a big, fat, fucking no.

  “Okay. Stay close to your phone. I’ll see what I can find out,” he promises.

  It’s so late, there’s not much chance I’ll hear from him tonight. I’m very relieved to end my day and go upstairs to see my girl. Things have been tense between us ever since she announced her job interview. She seems to think I’m more upset about it than I actually am. Other than the brief discussion Z, Wrath, and I had, I haven’t had time to give it a lot of thought. Ultimately, if it will make her happy, I want her to do it.

  Unfortunately, my bullshit day isn’t over.

  Motherfuckin’ Loco gets back to me quicker than I expected and wants to meet. Tonight. Now.

  Another fuckin’ night away from my girl when we’re already on shaky ground.

  “I think you’ll be pleased. This time I got a delivery for you.”

  Oh yeah, I’m fuckin’ thrilled.

  I round up my guys and give Ulfric a heads up.

  There’s no fuckin’ way he’s coming with us to meet Loco, but I do want him close by if this is what I think it is. “Don’t know it’s your girl. Hang at CB for a bit. I’ll come to you when I’m done.”

  “Yeah. Sorry to be draggin’ you into my bullshit, Rock. Having you and your crew out in the goddamn middle of the night like this ain’t right. I owe you.”

  And I know he’ll repay his debt. Ulfric’s an honorable guy, and he’s helped us out in the past when we’ve needed it.

  Teller needs to be reminded of this when he
starts bitching about the drive down to Empire.

  “Two hours tops. Small price to pay for a club that’s had our back more than once. Quit fuckin’ whining,” Z grumbles.

  Murphy has no opinions, which is surprising. Usually he’s full of them.

  Wrath insists on joining us since we’re taking the van.

  I gotta run up to my room and grab some stuff before we can leave.

  So wrapped up in whatever she’s looking at, Hope doesn’t hear me enter the room. Ulfric’s words rattle in my memory. My girl’s never aware of her surroundings either.

  Except she should feel safe and secure enough to lose herself in a book or whatever the fuck she’s doing when she’s in my clubhouse.

  I’m just on fuckin’ edge because of this shit goin’ on tonight. Edgy and irritable. “What you looking at, babe?”

  She startles and glances up, slamming the book shut and tucking it under the blanket at the foot of her lounge chair. Odd.

  “Nothing. Is everything okay?”

  No. Everything is not okay. But I can’t talk about this with Hope because I don’t even know what this is yet. Besides, I can’t shake the sense she’s hiding something from me lately, and I’m determined to figure out what it is.

  “I’m fine. What was that?”

  “Nothing.” She gets up and walks toward me, but the worry lines etched in her face have me on alert.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  She’s infuriating. “Stop saying nothing, Hope.”

  She glares at me and crosses her arms over her chest. But her posture is to cover up something else. The anguish in her eyes is clear. Panic blazes through me because somehow I’m failing her, and I don’t know how to fix it.

  It’s obvious she’s been crying, but she’s trying to hide it from me for some reason.

  “Hope, I’m tired of you not talking to me. Something’s bothering you, and you need to tell me.”

  Her lips part, but she stops herself and rolls her eyes. “This again? I’m fine. Stop making shit up. Are you still mad about the interview? Fine, I won’t go. Does that make you happy?”

  “It’s not about the interview. Fuckin’ go or don’t. I don’t give a shit.”